


there's no night or day in space

by eugyne (AreteNike)



Series: black holes and revelations [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (pay attention to that tag or youll get confused), Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team as Family, UNIVERSE-HOPPING KEITH, frankly not s2 compliant either :v, not s3 compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-19 06:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreteNike/pseuds/eugyne
Summary: If Shiro’s mistakes don’t tear the team apart, this failure of a rescue mission just might. How did it come to this?





	there's no night or day in space

**Author's Note:**

> _lord almighty ive been sitting on this for so long_  
>  big thanks to robert/overcaustically for illustrating this fic!! also running this event!! hell yeah  
> also big thanks to the veritable crowd of people that beta read this fic for me: nutella0mutt, mizulekitten, and especially typeknight who has basically saved my life half a dozen times over by now, you guys dont even know (mostly bc i cant post those fics yet :v )
> 
> this fic is a little different than _how to be anything but alone!_ for one, its from shiros pov. also its a little nonlinear--but i trust you guys can figure it out ;) note that theres some focus on ptsd and an in-pov description of a panic attack, so if that might cause trouble for you, please be careful :o
> 
> and if you _havent_ read _how to be anything but alone_... go do that, this fic is a sequel and wont make as much sense without it. ;)
> 
> all that said, _i hope you enjoy!!!_ <3

Shiro has lost his helmet and most of his team and very nearly his life, but he's clinging stubbornly to what he has left: the breath in his lungs, the beat of his heart, and Keith at his side.

It was supposed to be a rescue mission. Stealthy, in and out. They'd piled into the red lion, came in low and fast, got inside without the galra noticing—that part went fine.

But it was a trap, and now he's got a hole in his side that hurts like a knife as he struggles to keep pace with Keith. It's deep, only half-cauterized and leaking blood down his leg, and he has to step carefully so he doesn't slip—it’s not his only wound, either, but it's the hardest to think around.

Despite the trail he's left, they've lost their pursuers for the moment, and he sags gratefully against the wall for a moment's rest. Keith desperately tries to raise Lance and Hunk on the comms but he gets no response; nothing from Pidge, either, though that's no surprise. He turns.

"Shiro?" Keith's voice is low, worried. "How is it?"

"Fine," Shiro gasps. It's not. He coughs against his arm and finds blood on his white armor, almost black in the purple light.

"Shit, Shiro—we have to get you out of here." Keith's voice raises in panic as he tugs on Shiro's arm. Now that Shiro's stopped, though, he doesn't think he can get moving again. His chest feels heavy, dragging him down like an anchor, and he's drowning in the ocean of blood that's bubbling in his lungs.

He takes as deep a breath as he can manage. "I don't think I can," he says, more steadily than he feels.

"You can. We just..." Keith peers around the corner. "We're almost to rendezvous. Just hang on."

"Keith, listen," Shiro rasps.

"No," Keith says stubbornly. He moves forward and Shiro has to drag himself after. He fights for breath.

"Keith. If I don't... make it out of this..."

"Shiro—"

"I want you to leave."

Keith freezes at that, looking back over his shoulder at Shiro, who barely manages a smile.

"Save yourself," he says. "Keith, if this... universe is doomed... I want you to live."

"Shiro, don't say that," Keith says, and there's an edge to his voice; but somehow he's beautiful in this purple light, something untouchable and undeserved. With the last of his strength Shiro pushes away from the wall, wobbles in, plants a bloody kiss on Keith's cheek.

"Live," he whispers. "That's enough."

"I can't replace you," Keith whispers back after a moment. "I can't even _leave_ from here, I—I promised I'd stay. Don't... I'm not leaving you." His arms slip under Shiro's, steadying him.

"No, Keith," Shiro mumbles. His head is swimming now, and he finds himself leaning heavily on Keith, barely mindful of the way he struggles to keep him standing. "You have to live. Please."

There's a noise nearby, and Keith tenses. Shiro closes his eyes. It takes too much energy to focus.

"We're not making it out of this," he hears Keith mutter.

"Go, Keith." He's not sure if he manages to say it aloud, and Keith doesn't respond.

There's a yell, the sound of blasters. Something hits him and he falls. He opens his eyes blearily and sees something red and white and black in front of him, grunting angrily. He can barely even feel the pain anymore.

"Shiro." The something leans in close and resolves itself into Keith. "I'll find a way to save you. I'm gonna come back for you." Then he fades back into the blurry distance, yells something about a surrender.

Shiro is just aware enough to feel galran drones closing in around him, grabbing him, lifting him. Dimly he sees them reaching for Keith too.

"No," he groans.

Keith lurches in again before their metal hands close around him. "I love you," he whispers fiercely. His hair brushes against Shiro's face.

Then he takes off running, slipping between the drones and disappearing around the corner before they can react. Shiro strains to hear his footsteps until the ringing in his ears blocks out all else and he fades into unconsciousness.

In his last moments of clarity he wonders how, exactly, it came to this.

* * *

His first mistake, probably, was walking into the "lab" in the hangar where Pidge was working, and saying, "Keith told me you made a device that can take you between dimensions."

"Yep!" Pidge had said, cheerfully, innocently, not knowing what he'd been planning. "Me and Hunk and Allura. And Coran, a bit. We just got it working completely."

His second mistake was asking, "Can I see it?"

His third mistake was, after listening to Pidge's rambling explanation and examining the thing now strapped to his arm, _using_ it.

"I'll be back," he'd said, and hit some buttons before she'd more than opened her mouth to protest.

* * *

* * *

Strictly speaking, there's no night or day in space. There are times when most of the inhabitants of the castle-ship are asleep, though, so it may as well be the middle of the night as Shiro walks purposefully through the dim halls, totally alone.

Which is fine, because he feels less guilty about prodding at security systems and peering into corners and jumping at shadows if he knows none of them will see him.

His route tonight takes him by the infirmary, where the lights are dim and the cryopods are humming in the floor. It's been a few weeks, now, probably, since he helped Keith into one. Since Keith had brought him the black bayard. He'd stood in front of the pod and watched Keith relax into unconsciousness, and then Pidge had come and joined him.

"What the fuck were you thinking," she'd said, as much an accusation as a question.

"I don't know," he'd lied.

Neither of them had won the argument. They hadn't even finished it. He's been hoping it'll blow over but somehow he’d inadvertently struck a nerve, violated something important to her—what, he doesn't know—and even now she's cold to him.

He moves on from the infirmary before the weight of the things he can't fix comes crashing down on his head. He just has to keep moving, stay occupied, keep everyone safe—he just has to stay vigilant. If he lets his guard down the whole universe could be at stake.

His feet take him back up to the bridge, eventually. They always do. He looks at the holographic displays and controls there; the Altean is unintelligible to him but it all _looks_ to be in order. At least, it looks the same as usual. No angry flashing lights or alarms blaring. He swallows down the paranoia that crawls up his throat—if it's urgent, he tells himself, the alarms will sound. Coran checks them frequently. They work.

He forces himself to turn, and walk back off the bridge and to his room.

He's tired enough to actually fall asleep, eventually, but not so tired that the nightmares don't find him. His memories and fears merge seamlessly even where they don’t already overlap; the arena he fought in becomes Haggar’s lab, and strapped to the table is a man, like in the fragments of memory that remain from his time there.

Tonight it’s not him on the table, though. It’s Keith.

Shiro is forced to watch as Haggar digs her claws into Keith's arms, cackling as he screams. He lunges forward, reaching for them, but they slide away; he runs and runs but he can never quite reach them, only straining uselessly as her hands start to glow with dark energy that crackles up Keith's arms to his face and—

He shoots up in bed, panting and clammy in the darkness, Keith's screams echoing in his mind. He has to go check on Keith, make sure that he's here, make sure he’s alive; he stumbles out of bed before he’s even woken up fully.

And freezes halfway to the door as he remembers where he is and that his nightmares are just that: nightmares. As irrational as the fears that send him patrolling at night. He sits back down on his bed; if he gives in to those fears, he’s weak. If he disturbs Keith’s sleep because of them, he’s selfish. He can’t.

But he wants to. _Has_ to.

Shiro argues with himself for what feels like hours but is, realistically, probably only twenty minutes, before he settles on a compromise; he can go and check on Keith, so long as he doesn't wake him. Keith won't be any the wiser, and maybe he'll be able to get back to sleep after.

So he rolls out of bed and pads out the door and down the hall. Keith's door slides open quietly, and Shiro only leans in the doorway, letting the light from the hall fall across Keith's sleeping form. He can see the rise and fall of his breathing from here. It's enough.

"Are you coming in or not?" Keith murmurs then, and Shiro starts so badly he slips off the doorframe and almost falls backwards out of the room. There's a quiet snort in response.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Shiro whispers quickly, holding up his hands. He's still in the doorway. "I didn't mean—"

"S'fine." Keith reaches an arm out into the light, towards him. Shiro's breath catches. This is new for them, whatever this is—for all that Keith had said _we'll try_ they've hardly done anything different than normal. Different than friends.

But Keith is reaching for him, so Shiro steps forward and takes his hand, letting the door slide shut behind him and cast them in darkness. Keith tugs him down silently, rolling over to make room, until Shiro is laying on his side beside him. Keith throws an arm across his torso—Shiro hardly dares breath—and... promptly falls back asleep.

God, Shiro hopes Keith was actually awake to begin with. This'll be extremely awkward in the morning otherwise.

Still, he's here now, and Keith is, well... definitely alive. Shiro can feel him breathing against his arm. So he might as well try to sleep, too.

And he must succeed, because he wakes up again. He's warm and comfortable, and for a moment, content—until he remembers where he is, and he turns his head to see Keith is awake and watching him. He must grimace, or something, because Keith raises an eyebrow.

"Good morning?" says Keith.

"Oh. Uh. Morning," says Shiro, and makes to roll out of bed. He's pulled back, though.

"Nope. Come back." When Shiro tries to pull away again, Keith climbs right on top of him and sits on his stomach, crossing his arms. "Shiro, I don't mind you coming in here but you're gonna tell me why."

"...You know why."

"I don't know why you were awake in the middle of the night."

Shiro frowns. "Keith."

"I'm waiting." Keith doesn't move.

Shiro looks away. "We have to go to training, Keith, let me up." He could probably easily dislodge him, but he's not gonna resort to violence for this, he feels enough a monster already.

"So tell me quickly."

"It's... embarrassing."

Keith snorts. "So, what, you just wanted to cuddle?"

Shiro's head jerks around in surprise. "What? No, I—I mean, it's not that I don't—I mean—that's... not why."

Smooth. Keith grins and tilts his head.

"So? Why?"

Shiro huffs a sigh. "I just... had a nightmare."

Now Keith looks at him blankly. "That's supposed to be embarrassing?"

He's not the only one confused. "I... I came here in the middle of night because of a _nightmare,_ Keith. Like a child."

Keith's brow wrinkles for a moment, but then he smiles again—fondly, if Shiro isn't just flattering himself thinking so. "All the times I've met you and you still surprise me."

That wasn't what Shiro expected. "Huh?"

"Then again, just because you're the same person doesn't mean you've lived the same life, right?"

Shiro chokes. "Uh..."

"What I'm saying is," Keith pokes his chest, "it's perfectly normal to want company after you've had a nightmare, isn't it? Was it about me?"

"...Yes."

"So you were checking in on me. Normal." Then he grins and pokes Shiro's nose instead. "Besides, is me sitting on you so you can't escape any less childish? Honestly, Shiro. It's fine." And he finally climbs off Shiro's stomach and stands by the bed, stretching. Shiro sits up slowly.

"You... really don't mind?"

"I really don't, and you can do it again. You've got... what's the phrase. Blanket permission. No pun intended."

Shiro opens his mouth to respond—how, he's not sure yet, because there's a _lot_ to unpack in that statement—but then Allura's voice comes on over the ship-wide announcement system.

"Paladins, please report to the training deck!"

"If Lance sees you leaving my room, we'll never hear the end of it," Keith comments when Shiro doesn't move immediately.  _That_ makes him jump out of bed, and he hears a faint snort from Keith as he rushes out the door. Fortunately, the hallway is empty.

* * *

* * *

Shiro is being dragged down a long hallway. He dips in and out of consciousness, but never truly surfaces; reality overlaps with memory and he’s never quite sure if he’s dreaming or not. But he can’t seem to wake up.

* * *

* * *

It's hard to understate the effect Keith's arrival had on the team. Before, it was just the six of them: three kids and Shiro himself all fallen ass-backwards into paladinhood, and two aliens that had been asleep for millennia. They made a ragtag team on the best of days; on the worst, they were simply pathetic.

When Keith joined them, Shiro thinks, it was almost validating. Someone had joined their cause, someone tangible and present and directly useful in the way the few allies they'd gathered were not. More so when they heard of all his experiences, and again when it turned out he could be the red paladin.

Their mission felt just a tiny bit less impossible.

Sometimes he wonders if Pidge is mad because he jeopardized that.

Footsteps bring him back from where he was lost in thought, staring blankly at the star map on the bridge. He turns; it's Allura, who raises her eyebrows and approaches.

"You're up late," she says.

"So are you," he responds. It's not the first time she's found him on the bridge after his nightly patrol; they don't talk about what brings them here.

So tonight, as always, she changes the subject. "Were you looking for something?"

Shiro glances around at the star map. "Earth, I suppose," he says. He lifts a hand and brushes the little blue dot that marks home. "The galra haven't reached it yet."

"I'm glad," she says. "I would not want you to lose your home."

 _Like you lost yours,_ Shiro thinks. It goes unsaid.

He's not sure it's home anymore, though. Too much time spent away; too much knowledge of what lingers beyond their solar system, creeping ever closer. If home is where he feels safe, perhaps he no longer has one.

Maybe the closest he's come in a long time is waking up next to Keith a week ago, but he hasn't allowed himself to do that again.

“Your planet is still safe, Shiro,” Allura says softly, and he starts; he’d spaced out frowning at that little blue point of light.

"Yes, but it's more than that." Shiro looks away from the map but not quite at her either. "Earth is its people, too, and I want to be sure that they get home safely. All of them."

He's pretty sure he could've worded that better, but Allura seems to understand, for she nods.

"They will," she says. "You'll make sure of it."

"Will I?" Shiro runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "I don't think I've been doing a good job of that lately. You know what the black paladin _should_ be like—surely I've fallen short."

He's not about to confess all his doubts and fears, but it's not as if she doesn't know what he did to Keith, or the tension that remains.

"Your only predecessor was Zarkon," Allura says firmly, "and you are, without a doubt, a better paladin than he was. Trust your lion; she accepted you for a reason."

"I've made mistakes."

“Everyone does.” She places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “The universe has not ended yet, Shiro.”

Won’t it, though? If Shiro makes the wrong mistake, isn't _everything_ at risk?

"Thanks, I guess," he says with a sigh. "You should get some rest."

"So should you," says Allura.

"I will."

She leaves the bridge, but Shiro lingers a moment longer, looking at the tiny Earth in front of him, imprinting it in his mind. Just in case.

* * *

“Hey, Shiro!”

Shiro looks up; Lance saunters into the training room, hands in pockets. He’s clearly not here to train, so Shiro dismisses the gladiator and grabs a towel.

“Something I can help you with?” he asks.

“Dunno,” says Lance. He leans against the wall and shrugs. “Something I can help _you_ with?”

Shiro blinks at him. “Er, not that I can think of. What’s this about?”

“Oh, nothing. Just your local romance guru interested in how things are getting on with you and Keith.” He winks. Shiro sighs.

“I’m not sure that that’s… appropriate,” he begins slowly, “but aren’t you two friends? I thought he’d tell you.”

“He has, and that’s exactly why I’m here.” Lance grins.

Shiro waits for an explanation, but none comes.

“I don’t understand,” he says, and Lance’s grin drops.

“My god, you’re hopeless,” he says. “Fine, I’ll be blunt. You like him, right?”

“Yes…?” He tries not to be obvious about it for fairness’ sake but there’s only seven of them aboard and everyone is in everyone’s business, always. There’s no way anyone _doesn’t_ know.

“But Keith is kinda, like, emotionally stunted—don’t give me that look, I know what I’m talking about—and he’s new to the whole romance thing, isn’t he?”

“I’m… not sure that’s really—”

“No, he is, trust me on this.” Lance pats his own chest. “But the thing is, he’s following your lead, here, right? ...That’s a rhetorical question, you don’t have to answer.”

“What’s your point, Lance?” Shiro asks, less annoyed than simply confused.

“My _point_ ,” says Lance, “is that you guys haven’t gone on even _one_ date, and it’s been, what, a month since you got together?”

Oh. “We _are_ in the middle of a war,” Shiro points out. “We don’t have time to make a detour just for recreation.”

Lance is shaking his head before he’s even finished talking, though. “No, no, no, you’re overthinking this! Dates don’t have to be big productions, okay, you don’t have to _go_ somewhere. It doesn’t have to be a fancy candlelit dinner! ...Though, we could probably make that happen. Hit me and Hunk up sometime if you wanna make that happen. The important thing, though, is spending time with each other, for fun.”

Shiro opens his mouth.

“Training together does _not_ count.”

Shiro closes his mouth.

“Yeah, see. All work and no play makes Shiro and Keith dull boys. It’s not like you don’t have _any_ free time between missions, so like… actually date the guy you’re dating, maybe. That’s my top quality romance guru advice, free of charge.” Lance takes a bow with a flourish. Shiro chuckles; Lance does have a point, though. He’d meant to give Keith the time and space to figure out his feelings, but maybe it’s been too much. Maybe… maybe he _has_ figured them out.

“Thanks, I guess. Did he ask you to do this?”

“Oh, no, it was my idea. It’s not like he was complaining or anything either.” Lance rocks up on his heels away from the wall. “I’m just meddling ‘cause I’m bored. But, you know, good meddling. Necessary meddling. For his sake, but don’t tell him that.”

Shiro grins. “If you’re bored, I’m sure we can ask Coran for somethi—”

“Woops, sorry, can’t hear you, bye.” Lance half-jogs backwards out of the training room, throwing him a cheeky grin and a salute that snaps into place too easily for the casual effect he was probably going for—years of Garrison training will do that to a person. “And good luck!”

“Thanks!” Shiro calls after him. He’s a little touched, actually; it’s evidence that the team takes care of each other, that their bonds are growing stronger. And that Keith, so much an outsider that he’s from another universe entirely, fits right in.

He could get mad at Lance for meddling but it _was_ good advice, no matter how unsolicited. Maybe Shiro just needed a little push.

He goes back to training, for now, but makes a mental note for later.

* * *

* * *

Shiro doesn’t know where he is; he’s only vaguely aware that he’s anywhere at all. A scant handful of thoughts pass through his head— _where’s my team? Did Keith get out? Where’s Pidge? Is she okay?_ —and then the darkness reclaims him.

* * *

* * *

It’s a couple of days before Shiro comes up with a date idea and, more importantly, has the chance to actually ask; he catches Keith after lunch and pulls him aside, ignoring the way Lance waggles his eyebrows at them as he leaves the room.

“Let’s go stargazing,” he suggests.

Keith raises an eyebrow. "Right now?"

"Why not?" Shiro says, giving him a smile. "After all, there's no night or day in space. Now's as good a time as any."

Keith blinks; then he grins. "Sure. Let's go stargazing."

They find what can only be an observation room; the floor-to-ceiling window along the room's length gives them a fantastic—almost unsettling—view of the stars as they slowly drift by. They settle onto the padded bench there and, for a while, say nothing at all.

Shiro turns his head to look at Keith; it's so cliche he cringes at the thought, but the man next to him seems the more beautiful view. He can't help but feel lucky that of all the versions of him Keith has met, he's the one that gets to keep him.

Or, so he keeps telling himself. It's not the "lucky" part that he can't convince himself of, it's the "keeping him" part. Even now he still feels like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop, and sometimes he looks at Keith and thinks, _I'll miss you,_ before he realizes.

It's a few minutes before Keith notices Shiro's face turned toward him.

"You're staring," he says.

"I'm enjoying the view," Shiro responds, and Keith snorts. He nudges him and turns back to the stars.

"You're the one that suggested stargazing in the first place," he says.

"Mm." Shiro does finally look away again, though reluctantly. "I used to do this at the Garrison. It's a lot clearer out here, though, obviously."

"Alone?"

"Not always."

Keith hums. "So this _is_ a date?"

Shiro can't help the smile that creeps up his face; out of the corner of his eye he can see Keith has turned to him. "If you want it to be."

"Hm." Keith doesn't respond one way or the other, but he scoots a little closer and leans his head against Shiro's shoulder. He'll take that as a yes, then.

"I went to the Garrison too," Keith says after a moment. "I don't know if the others were there, but I remember you. I met you once."

That's on the edge of things they haven't really talked about, things Shiro's kind of been avoiding, but it's rare enough that Keith talks about his past. "I thought you always met all of us."

Keith shakes his head against Shiro's shoulder. "Before all that. In the universe I'm from."

"Oh." Shiro hesitates. "What happened?"

"You caught me in the simulator after hours but you didn't turn me in."

He nods. Keith wouldn't be the only one trying to get in extra practice, and Shiro wasn't going to discourage that.

"Then, the Kerberos mission... there was a mechanical failure. The ship exploded on the way up."

Shiro's blood runs cold. Keith takes his hand and squeezes it.

"So, yeah. I was a little hesitant to get to know you after that. I kind of looked up to you, a lot, and then you just... died in this senseless way." He shrugs. "I guess I kinda started acting up. Kind of angry at the world, you know? Because I didn't know you but I knew you didn't deserve that, so what was the point? And then I got expelled and started dimension-hopping." He laughs a little. "It was weird actually getting to know you at first, but nothing like that ever happened again."

"...Oh my god, Keith."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to kill the mood." Keith sits up, squeezes Shiro's hand until he turns to look. He's got a sort of woeful smirk on. "Listen, most universes don't even _have_ a Kerberos mission. It's all pretty irrelevant. That's why I said when we first met that there's not really any way to tell what'll happen based on other dimensions. People are the same. What happens to them isn't."

"So, Zarkon losing every time..."

"Is because you and the others are the sort of people to find a way to take him down. It's not fate, it's just who you are."

Shiro has to take a moment to process that. It's one thing to know that there are infinite realities and anything is possible, including his own premature death; it's another to hear of a concrete example. But Keith's _confidence_ in him, in their friends, in the ways of the multiverse... it's comforting. If he says they'll find a way, surely they will.

So he leans in and presses a kiss to Keith's forehead, making him blink in surprise. "Thank you, Keith."

"...For what?"

Shiro shrugs. "Everything."

Keith snorts, but he leans his head on Shiro's shoulder again, and turns back towards the stars. "Anytime."

* * *

Over the past couple of weeks, Shiro has had the time to relax. The only mission they’ve been on recently was easy—almost too easy. So, inevitably, he grows tense. The more time he spends in recreation, the more time he spends with Keith, the more he feels everything is going to be torn away from him. When they’re busy, it’s fine, but like the shifting of tectonic plates, the pressure builds the longer they go without incident, and all Shiro can do is brace himself for the inevitable earthquake.

So, on his nightly patrol, when he steps off the bridge and Hunk and Pidge step out of the shadows in front of him, he startles badly. It takes every ounce of self control to not activate his hand, drop into a battle-ready stance—as it is he jerks back, heart pounding wildly. He reminds himself firmly that they are _friends,_ not enemies.

"You're up late," says Hunk.

"Went for a walk," Shiro says slowly. There's something in their gazes that's unnerving him. "Couldn't sleep." It's not even a total lie. He swallows; they're still just staring at him, almost _sternly._ "Why are you two still up? It's late."

"This is an intervention, Shiro," Hunk says, gently, and Shiro gives him a nervous chuckle in response, but his face is completely serious. Shiro turns to go back the other way, but then Keith and Lance are there, blocking his path.

"Guys...?"

"Go to _bed,_ dude," says Lance.

"The ship can monitor and record its inhabitants, you know," says Pidge. "We know you patrol every night."

He stiffens. "Is it so bad to be concerned with our safety, Pidge?"

Her face darkens, but Hunk is the one to respond.

"We're in the middle of empty space, Shiro," he says. "There's no one on the ship but us, and if anything even comes _close,_ there's like, a million alarms. We're _safe._ "

Shiro thinks that if the most timid of the paladins feels safe, he ought to, too. He doesn't.

"We don't know what the galra are capable of," he says quickly. "This ship is more than ten thousand years old. They might have cloaking tech the ship can't pick up—"

"Which is why I've been systematically dismantling every piece of galra tech I can get my hands on, except for the one attached to you," Pidge says sharply. "Nothing has slipped past our radar yet, and nothing I've seen suggests anything _will._ "

"You can't know for sure."

"Not sleeping won't fix that." Keith comes and puts a hand on his shoulder, and he subconsciously leans into it despite himself. "It just makes you tired, and that doesn't help anyone."

"Have you _seen_ this ship? It's huge." Shiro grits his teeth, tries not to explode at his friends—he _knows_ they're just trying to help. "You don't know what could be hiding somewhere. There could be a spy, some remnant of galran technology—they took over the ship, you know, before you came. I only want to keep you—everyone— _safe...._ " His last sentence trails off a little as he struggles to regain his composure, to patch up the crack in his defense. He can't show weakness, not in front of his team.

"You're always like this," Keith says grimly. "You try to solve everyone's problems and ignore your own; you always put everyone before yourself, but it's never been this _bad_ before."

"What do you know?" he snaps, like they hadn't talked about this just the other day, and regrets it immediately. Keith looks hurt. "I mean. I'm sorry. I'll go to bed." He runs a hand through his hair, feeling distinctly off-center, as the group sighs in relief. " _If,_ " he adds quickly, making them groan, "you can prove to me right now, beyond a doubt, that there are no threats on this ship."

"For fuck's sake," says Pidge, and a screen is thrust in his face. "Look." He's greeted with a series of schematics of the castle, with a cluster of glowing dots and a couple of others elsewhere. "That's us, and that's Allura and the mice, and that's Coran." Then the dots disappear, to be replaced by others elsewhere. "This is a scan of all non-Altean tech in the castle right now. This is my equipment, this is all the stuff Hunk and I've got down in the lab, this is that souvenir Lance stole from some planet—"

"Hey!"

"—which isn't galran, but I assure you we triple checked just to be sure, and that's your arm. Happy?"

It's not really something he can argue with. A nasty little corner of his mind suggests Pidge is fabricating this for his peace of mind—but he has little doubt she's capable of actually doing what she's showing him, and if he can't trust his team, what kind of leader is he? So despite the pit in his stomach, he nods stiffly.

"Finally!" Lance exclaims, and heads out. Hunk claps Shiro on the shoulder and follows.

"I'll leave him to you, Keith," Pidge says darkly, and shoots Shiro a glare before leaving herself.

He doesn't look at Keith, yet. Instead he looks down the hall, into the darkness toward their quarters, where the rest of the team had gone.

"You told me I could always tell you if something's bothering me," Keith says suddenly.

Shiro had nearly forgotten he'd made that promise. "Yes?"

"This bothers me," Keith says, and Shiro finally looks at him again. Keith is glaring down the hall as though it'd done him wrong. "You wandering around like this."

"I just—"

"I know." Keith looks back up at him. "You already explained yourself. Come on." He starts walking.

Shiro doesn't move right away. There's the nagging sense in his mind like he's forgotten something—maybe he should double check the bridge, since he's here...

" _Shiro,_ " Keith says, exasperated, and comes back and takes his hand and leads him down the hall. Shiro feels selfish for letting him, for enjoying the feel of Keith's warm, dry fingers in his.

He doesn't want to let go when they reach his quarters, but Keith lets go and that's that.

"We're gonna talk tomorrow," he says, "but right now, you need to sleep. So... goodnight." He turns to go.

"You can stay," Shiro says—blurts, really, before he can even think about it. Keith freezes and for a moment Shiro doubts himself, Keith had _said_ Shiro could come to his room for nightmares but maybe this is different—

Keith turns to face him again, though, and says, "Okay."

Shiro blinks. They stare at each other for a moment; then he mutters a strangled "oh" and kind of edges into his room. Keith follows silently, takes off his boots as Shiro does the same.

He's just wondering if he'll be able to slip out again once Keith's fallen asleep when Keith gives him a gentle push toward the bed.

"I'm sleeping between you and the door," he announces. So much for that.

So Shiro climbs into bed, scooting in closer to the wall, facing it. The lights dim, and the mattress dips under Keith's added weight.

"...Are you mad at me?" he hears after a moment, and he rolls over so fast he almost smacks Keith in the face.

"No! No, of course not," he says. Keith is lying very straight and reserved next to him, facing him so that his face is completely in shadow. "Why would I be mad?"

"All of this? I'm just... worried about you." Keith looks away and now Shiro can see his frown in profile. "We all are."

Shiro can't help but reach out, pull him closer. He doesn't know how else to respond. Keith sighs into Shiro's chest.

"You need to trust us to take care of ourselves," he says, voice a little muffled. "And you need to take care of yourself, too."

"I don't want to lose anyone," Shiro whispers into Keith's hair.

"I know." Keith pulls away a little to look up at him, like he's going to say more, but he lets out a short sigh instead and leans his head against Shiro's chest again. "Goodnight, Shiro."

Somehow Shiro doesn't think the conversation is over, but he tightens his arm around Keith anyway and closes his eyes. "Goodnight, Keith."

* * *

Shiro wakes up twice. First to Keith hovering over him, telling him he's having a nightmare, and second to the overwhelming panic that there's _something_ in the castle, something dangerous—but Keith is asleep on his arm and he doesn't want to wake him. He talks himself down but doesn't get back to sleep.

* * *

* * *

Getting dragged into a cell and dumped on the floor— _that_ Shiro thinks might be real. The familiar face that looks down at his own, too. The druids encircling him, the searing pain in his missing arm, the dark tendrils that force their way into his mind and drag his deepest fears into the light for Haggar to see—that he hopes is only memory.

* * *

* * *

Keith stirs, eventually. Shiro considers feigning sleep, but he knows there's a lot they have to talk about, and while Keith is in his arms he figures he ought to take the opportunity.

So he brushes Keith's bangs out of his face, gently, and waits.

Keith opens his eyes shortly, blinks a few times. He looks a little confused, and Shiro smiles down at him.

"Good morning," he says. Keith makes a sort of "mmrf" sound and buries his face in Shiro's chest, and oh, that should not be as cute as it is.

"How long've you been awake," he mumbles into the fabric.

"Not long," Shiro lies.

Keith lets out a puff of breath and his arm tightens around Shiro's back. Shiro has no desire to move in the foreseeable future.

All good things must come to an end, though, so eventually Keith pushes himself up and away to sit. Shiro mourns by grinning at Keith's bedhead.

"Shut up," Keith grumbles, running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to smooth it out.

"I didn't say anything."

"You thought it."

Shiro shrugs lightheartedly. The room has brightened automatically to something resembling daylight and it always makes him feel a little better, somehow. Also, Keith is here.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks after a moment.

Keith yawns. "Fine. I know you didn't."

True enough. He shrugs again. He's not sure what he wants to say, or what he has to say—there's half a dozen apologies swimming beneath his skin but he doesn't know _how_ to say them—but Keith's stomach rumbles audibly and he takes the out instead. He snorts.

"Breakfast?"

Keith makes a face. "Yeah," he says, and Shiro smiles.

* * *

He doesn't say any of what he has to say that day. He throws himself into training instead, maybe more earnestly than usual, but it's fine; he's functional on less sleep than this.

He feels outside himself sometimes, but it's _fine._

That night, though, after dinner, Keith sticks to his side like glue and Shiro can't shake him to do his nightly rounds. Which, he supposes, is the point. From the looks from the other paladins—Lance's smirk in particular—picking Keith to tail him was also purposeful. He _might_ get annoyed at anyone else but he can't resent Keith for it, he just can't.

He watches Keith carefully for any sign that he’s doing this grudgingly and finds none, at least.

Keith follows him to his room that night, but he makes no move to enter, and Shiro doesn't ask him to stay. He's going to do this on his own. Keith said he was worried; well, Shiro won't give him any more reason to worry. He can handle this.

That he ends up just working himself up into a state of near terror, that keeps him up all night until he passes out barely an hour before it's time to wake, is just a weakness he needs to conquer.

That day doesn't go quite as well as the day before. The day after is worse. He barely sleeps, and more and more often he finds himself on autopilot, moving and training like he's controlling his body from afar—he slips into flashbacks at the slightest trigger. He can barely eat for the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. The happiness he held in his grip just a few weeks ago is slipping away through his fingers, no matter how hard he tries to keep hold.

He makes it four nights before he stumbles, shaking, out of his room, sometime in the wee hours of the morning, desperate. He has to know. He just has to know, if he can just run a scan from the bridge, that's all! He won't patrol, he _doesn't have to_ patrol, he can live without that, but god if there is something on the ship right now he will never forgive himself—

The sound of a door nearby opening interrupts his thoughts—he hasn't gotten far down the hall at all—and brings with it a faint beeping. There's a sleepy grumble behind him.

"Shiro?" Hunk mumbles. "What're you doing?"

Shiro spins. Hunk's awake? Is that beeping an alarm? Are they under attack? He didn't hear anything before, though. It's faint, too. Where's everyone else? Hunk's still in his pajamas. No attack? Is something _wrong_ with the alarm? Coran checked it just this morning, though—was it tampered with? Who—

"Shiro?"

Shiro's eyes snap back to Hunk's widening ones. He looks awake now. Shocked. Scared? What is he scared of? Something behind Shiro? He doesn't hear anything—he glances back, doesn't see anything. Scared of _him?_ Is his arm—no, his arm's fine, it's not glowing, just hanging tense by his side. A flashback, brief—his own face with glowing yellow eyes, the druid's creation—is that it? Has something happened to _him?_ Oh god, he's a liability, he should never have—

"Shiro!" Hunk actually shouts, right in his face. When did he get so close? "Can you hear me?" He's got Shiro by the shoulders now and the grip grounds him just a little, so he focuses on it.

"H-hunk," he manages to whisper.

"Okay, okay, you're here. Good. Breathe, Shiro. You're safe. C'mon. In..."

Hunk's eyes are still wide and fearful. It must be important to him, so Shiro breathes in.

"Out..."

Shiro breathes out.

"Good! In... Out..."

Shiro breathes. And breathes again. And again, until with Hunk's grip on his shoulders and air in his lungs he starts to regain some modicum of clarity.

"Oh god," he says finally; it comes out as a whimper. He just broke down completely, didn't he?

"You're safe, Shiro. See?"

Safe. He's safe. He keeps repeating it in his head: he's safe, safe, _safe._ He's fine, Hunk's fine, everyone's _fine._ Just him overreacting, as usual.

"Still with me?" Hunk asks, and now Shiro can perceive the concern in his voice, the faint beeping still in the background—and Keith standing in the doorway of his room, watching. No Pidge or Lance, but they’re most likely still asleep; Pidge is probably in a completely different part of the castle.

"I wasn't," Shiro admits, and sags into Hunk's strong grip. He's been running on nothing but adrenaline for days and in its absence there's only a bone-deep weariness. "I am now."

"Are you okay?"

He can't choke back the huff of a laugh that erupts in his chest, but he manages a weak, "Yes." He knows it's totally unconvincing, but Hunk slowly lets go of him anyway, leaving him to support his own weight again. Ahead of them, Keith sighs.

"I'll take him from here, Hunk," he says. Hunk turns.

"You sure? It's my turn..."

“Yeah.”

Hunk glances back at Shiro and shrugs.

"Alright," he says, and yawns. "Goodnight, then." He heads back to his room, and the beeping stops moments after his door slides shut. Shiro is left swaying in the hallway, while Keith stands with folded arms in front of his room. He beckons.

"I'm going... back to my room," Shiro manages. "I'm fine now."

He's not. Maybe he'll never be. All he wants right now is to pass out and not _think_ anymore.

Keith snorts. "You can, but I'm staying with you either way," he says bluntly. Shiro blinks blearily. Fine. Whatever. He heads back to his room and gets into bed.

Sure enough, Keith climbs in after him, warm at his back. Shiro falls asleep.

* * *

Shiro wakes up feeling awful. His mouth is dry and the beginnings of a headache, likely from dehydration, are pulsing behind his eyes; he's damp from sweat and the room is far too bright even through his eyelids. He's also alone in bed, which means either he dreamed all of last night—the best case scenario, really, he thinks with a small groan—or Keith is already awake.

"Morning," says Keith somewhere nearby. So it's the latter. Damn.

Shiro grunts.

"Barely, though," Keith adds after a moment. "But you're in time for lunch."

Shiro's eyes snap open—briefly, then he winces and shuts them again—and he creaks up into a sitting position.

"What the hell." His voice creaks, too, as he blinks, trying to let his eyes adjust.

"You didn't wake up when you usually do, so we figured you needed the rest and let you sleep," Keith says. He comes to sit on the edge of the bed and pushes a glass of water into Shiro's hands. "Don't think we didn't notice you've been off your game lately, Shiro."

"Oh," Shiro says hoarsely, and takes a long drink of water. Well, it figures they'd've noticed, in close quarters like these. They _had_ staged an intervention.

Oh god, he really did break down in front of half the team last night. They must've lost all respect for him; how can he lead now?

"We trained without you," Keith continues. His hair looks wet, like he just got out of the shower. "Allura filled in for you. It was kind of hellish." He makes a face, and Shiro feels a smile tug at his lips unbidden. "We're gonna have a meeting after lunch, though."

"A meeting?" And Shiro is seized with fear again. Surely they've decided he's unfit to lead, then.

Keith raises an eyebrow. "Don't freak out, it's nothing bad. Just that confining you to your room is obviously not helping, so we need to try something else."

That definitely doesn't make him feel any better. "Like... what?"

"Dunno." Keith shrugs. "Do you sleep better if I'm here? That's an option."

Shiro blinks. Is that a hint of a smile on Keith's face? Is he _flirting?_ He shakes his head, seriously off-balance, and sets the empty glass aside.

"I wouldn't want you to lose sleep over me," he says. "I must've woken you up the other night—I have nightmares."

Keith raises an eyebrow again. "Every night?"

Shiro hesitates.

“We promised there’d be no more secrets,” Keith reminds him. “And I already _know_ you have nightmares, Shiro.”

“Not every night,” Shiro admits, flopping back down and throwing an arm across his eyes. “But most.”

“Good start.” Keith pats his stomach. “Anything else?”

“Huh?” Shiro lowers his arm.

"You need to talk about the things that bother you," Keith says, "and you need to let me in. I learned both those things from you."

Shiro swallows. "Me in general, or me specifically?"

"You specifically."

That sparks maybe a little more pride than it should. He gives the question some thought.

“I’m frustrated with myself,” he says finally. “For… a lot of reasons.”

“Like what?”

He groans, feeling like a petulant child. “Do I _have_ to say?”

Keith grins. “Yep.”

Shiro sighs and looks away. “What I… did to you. How scared I am. This… ongoing argument with Pidge that I can’t seem to solve.”

“Okay.” Keith shifts on the bed. “Pick one. Tell me about it.”

"...The fear is easiest to talk about, probably," Shiro says carefully. Keith just nods. He’s dying to know what Keith _thinks_ he's done to him, whether those things match up with his own list, but he's also afraid...

"Your fear," Keith prompts after a moment. "It's why you patrolled at night?"

"Yeah," Shiro says, a little hoarsely. "It's paranoia, really." That's another thing that frustrates him—he's so painfully aware that he's a trainwreck. "I don't want us to be caught unaware, and I don't want anyone to go through what I did. And things have been too quiet lately."

Keith frowns for a moment, worrying him, but then he speaks. "What if we patrolled with you instead? Would that help?"

Shiro opens his mouth, and shuts it. That was absolutely not what he'd expected to hear.

"We did that in other universes," Keith clarifies quickly. "Right after dinner so no one loses sleep. We can bring it up at the meeting—call it a bonding exercise, too, Allura would love that."

That surprises a short laugh out of him. "She would. I... think it would? Help, I mean." He sits up again slowly; he hadn't considered it before, but he can usually ignore the whining voice in the back of his head when it comes to trusting his team. Knowing everyone's sweeping the castle could put his mind at ease, at least for a little while. "It's worth a shot."

Keith smiles, big and bright, and it takes Shiro's breath away, for a moment. "Good. I'll suggest it to Allura."

Even so, he's struck with doubt. "I don't know if the others will be willing..."

And Keith's smile drops into something pensive. "You remember when I said you're the same, but sometimes a little different?"

"...Yes?" Shiro's heart hammers in his chest.

"You're more reluctant to get everyone involved, here." Keith shrugs. "But you don't have to do this alone. You know you have PTSD, right?"

Oh.

That hadn't occurred to him, actually.

Keith sighs. "You didn't, did you."

Mutely, Shiro shakes his head.

"Well, I'm not an expert. But I think you do. I’ve seen it before." He stands up and stretches. "Either way, it's probably better for you to let everyone help than to just... bottle it up. And everyone _does_ want to help. You'll see."

That sounds a little ominous. "You're sure?"

"We staged an _intervention,_ Shiro. And we've had someone on duty every night, in case something happens—like last night."

Shiro cringes, hunching forward and bringing his blanketed knees up. "Right, when I had a mental breakdown in front of half the team. I'm sure that instilled plenty of confidence in you guys."

Keith rolls his eyes and sits on the edge of the bed again. This time he takes Shiro's hand, holding it in his lap.

"I cried the day after I got here, you know," he says.

Shiro looks at him in shock, the self-deprecating tension falling right off his shoulders. "You did?"

"Wouldn't you, if everyone you cared about suddenly thought you were a stranger?" Keith looks up and meets his eyes, searching. Shiro blinks; he hadn't thought of it that way before.

"You didn't seem bothered by it, at the time," he says carefully.

Keith snorts. "I was lying to myself. Took me a while to figure that out." One corner of his mouth quirks up. "You helped."

Shiro doesn't know what to say to that. "Ah."

Keith gives him a pointed look. "I'm trying to return the favor, here."

He has to consider that for a minute, try to figure out just what it is Keith thinks he's lying to himself about—he thinks back through the conversation. Keith waits.

"I need help," Shiro says finally, and looks to Keith to see if that was the right answer.

Keith grins. "That's a start," he says, and stands again, picking up the empty water glass.

"...Is... that it?" Shiro asks, more than a little confused.

"Don't think you're off the hook. We're continuing this later," Keith says pointedly. "Lunch first, though." And he heads for the door. Great, plenty of time to worry about it.

No, he tells himself firmly. Time to prepare.

"Okay," he says, but Keith has already left the room.

* * *

* * *

This time, when Shiro floats back up towards consciousness, there are murmurs around him. Voices speaking, hushed, confused and angry and hopeful. The only word that penetrates the haze is “Champion.”

* * *

* * *

They gather in the rec room; Shiro walks in and sits and doesn't realize anyone's been talking until someone punches his shoulder lightly.

"Shiro?" says Lance, and waves a hand in front of his face. He blinks and drags himself back into his body; everyone is staring at him.

He clears his throat, tries to regain some semblance of dignity. "...Yes?"

Allura sighs. "As I said," she says, gesturing at him. "It's not helping. In fact, quite the opposite."

"What else can we do?" Hunk asks nervously.

"Sedate him?" offers Pidge.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Shiro tenses. " _Sedate?_ " It’s not quite a flashback, but his mind is all too happy to call up memories—bound to a table, hazy, galra hovering over him, needles and tools...

"I'm not telling you to _change_ his habits, paladins," Allura says stiffly, thankfully interrupting his train of thought. "I'm telling you to _accommodate_ them. Perhaps instead of keeping him from patrolling the castle you can help him do so?" Keith is standing next to her, arms crossed; he nods.

There's a moment of silence. Shiro folds in on himself.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I've let you all down."

Pidge snorts. Lance punches him again.

"No way, dude," he says. "You haven't."

"Yeah, no, I can't blame you for being seriously paranoid. Like, it'd be weird if you weren't," Hunk adds. "All things considered."

Maybe Keith was right. Even so... "I... need to be stronger. I'm the leader, I..." Shiro trails off.

"You haven't _permanently_ fucked it up yet," says Pidge, which is probably the nicest thing she's said to him in a while, even if her tone is exasperated. "Besides, who else would lead if you didn't?"

"Ah..." He's considered that, but never come up with a good answer. Hunk is usually reasonable, if timid; Lance has a good eye for strategy, even if he doesn't always use it; Keith is experienced and decisive but even when he thinks his actions through he can come to reckless conclusions; Pidge is clever, but independent in her priorities. They all _could_ do it in a pinch, probably, but long term... "Allura?" he tries.

"I fly the castle," she says, a hint of amusement in her voice. Right. That _had_ been a problem before Keith joined them. He sags.

"Sorry," he says again.

"You have nothing to apologize for," says Keith. Shiro knows that’s not true.

They make plans, work out schedules and rotations and routes. Everyone's on board with it, which is gratifying but somehow also makes him feel worse—it's one thing to admit he needs help and another to _accept_ it. He can't help but feel he's imposing.

When Allura asks if the arrangement is to his liking he just... nods. At least Keith looks pleased. How much of this was his idea?

Maybe, he thinks, this is how Keith shows he cares.

* * *

They do a round of patrols that evening after dinner. Shiro sleeps through the night with Keith in his arms. The nightmares don’t go away, but it helps.

* * *

In a couple of days Shiro feels… better. Not 100%, and definitely still tense, but better. But now that his fear is under control—now that his mind is no longer constantly focused on finding the next threat—he realizes that just because he's stopped going to the bridge in the middle of the night doesn't mean Allura has too.

So he goes looking for Coran.

He finds the Altean down in the hangar—or, at least, half of him, hanging out of the open side of a pod. Hunk is there too; he waves cheerily as Shiro approaches.

"Hey, Hunk," says Shiro. "Mind if I borrow Coran for a bit?"

"Depends," says Hunk. "If you just wanna talk to him, I can go, but if you need him elsewhere you'll have to wait. Unless it's an emergency. It isn't an emergency, is it?"

"No, and I just want to talk."

"Okie-dokie. I'll be over there. CORAN! Did you hear that?"

"Every word!" Coran confirms, slightly muffled from inside the pod. "Something I can help you with, Shiro?"

"Something like that." Shiro leans against the pod as Hunk leaves, and tries to think of how to word his concerns. He decides to take a page from Keith’s book and get straight to the point.

“Coran,” he says, “when I used to patrol alone at night, sometimes I’d find Allura on the bridge afterwards.”

There's a pause in the clanking and shuffling within, and then it resumes.

"Is that so?" asks Coran.

"Yes. I don't know why," Shiro adds. "But I figure it's not because I was there too. I'm just... concerned. She needs to rest as much as the rest of us."

Coran grunts and shifts position. "You're quite right about that," he says, soft enough that Shiro leans over to try and hear better. Then, louder, "Have you talked to her about it, then?"

"Oh, no, I haven't. I just thought, since you’re the closest thing she has to family…” Shiro shrugs, even though Coran can't see.

"Hmm." There's a decisive clank inside the pod, and then Coran is wriggling backwards out of its innards. He pops out with a wobble, then straightens and brushes himself off. Suitably presentable again, he fixes Shiro with a look.

"Just because Allura is no longer a paladin," he says, "does not mean she isn't still part of Team Voltron!"

That's a non sequitur. Shiro frowns.

"I don't follow," he says.

"Family!" says Coran. He wags a finger in Shiro's face. "You may be right that we... only have each other, family-wise. But Voltron is a family too!" Coran tugs his mustache. "You can still support each other. In fact, you should! The other paladins have done so for you, haven't they?" He gives Shiro a pointed look.

"Er, I guess?" They do patrol now—and there was the intervention. He just hadn't thought of it that way.

"Quite! Just as you're always looking out for them."

Shiro thinks he hasn't been doing a very good job of that, lately. But if he hadn't thought of the intervention as his team wanting to support him, he certainly hadn't thought of it as _reciprocal._

They're getting away from the point, though: supporting _Allura._

"I am looking out for her," he says finally. "That's why I came to you. You know her best." He pauses. “And considering she’s essentially my superior officer, I think it’s better it come from you.”

"I see your point." Coran nods. "Very well, I'll talk to her. And, thank you, Shiro."

He smiles at that. "Anytime."

He passes Hunk on his way out, and slows to let him know he can return to the pod now. But Coran's words still churn in his mind and, considering, he comes to a full halt.

"How are you doing, by the way?" he adds.

"Oh! I'm good," Hunk says. "I mean, the usual, y'know? Just a little worried about Pidge."

Shiro's heart drops. "What's wrong?"

Hunk shrugs. "Dunno. Probably nothing. I saw her looking at a map or something a couple of times but she closed it as soon as I got close. I figured she's homesick and doesn't want anyone to know."

Shiro nods. It's a reasonable explanation, though he worries anyway; still, with the way things are going between them, he can hardly drop by and ask her.

"Alright," he says. "Thanks, Hunk."

"Yep." Hunk salutes him—like Lance before, it's a little too sharp to be casual—and heads back to Coran. Shiro heads out, too.

That evening Allura gives him a look across the dinner table; he shrugs back, and she shakes her head, but she smiles.

* * *

* * *

This time when Shiro half-wakes there is only silence, and his arm moving of its own accord. The pain drives him under again.

* * *

* * *

Shiro's usually the one to seek out Keith rather than the other way around; something Keith probably intends to take advantage of, he realizes belatedly, when he walks into the training room and Keith looks at him and he suddenly feels like he's stepped into a trap.

"End training sequence," says Keith, and lowers his bayard. That doesn't bode well.

"...Done training?" Shiro asks.

"We have a conversation to finish."

Right to the point, then. Shiro looks around; they've had plenty of conversations in this room, but it's not a room meant for talking. It's too big for spilling secrets.

"Okay," he says slowly, "but, not here."

Keith raises an eyebrow, but he shrugs and grabs his jacket. "Alright. Lead the way."

Shiro does, back to the observation room, where there's nothing between them and the void of space but a few feet and a thin layer of alien plexiglass. It's dark, and quiet, and maybe it's easier to talk to the stars than to Keith considering what they're likely to discuss.

"So," says Keith, moving so that he brushes against Shiro's shoulder. "Which problem do you want to talk about?"

"Ideally, none of them," says Shiro.

"That's not an option."

"I figured." Shiro takes a deep breath. The worst that can happen is that Keith leaves—and, Shiro reminds himself, the last time he left, he came back. "I guess I want to apologize."

"Okay," Keith says, "for what?"

"For..." He waves a hand vaguely. "Driving you off. You went and fought Zarkon alone because of me, and I shouldn't have done what I did to make you... feel like you had to do that. I just wanted you to stay... but I feel guilty about that too."

Keith is quiet for a while. Shiro waits, on edge, for his answer.

"I'm here because I want to be," he says finally. "Otherwise, that was a pretty lame apology."

Shiro freezes. "I... What?"

"You shouldn't have done what you did? You can do better than that, Shiro."

Shiro looks over at him finally. Keith is watching him—he doesn't look particularly angry. Not terribly amused, though, either. Tense, maybe. That doesn't make him feel any better; this is just confirmation that Keith does actually hold something against him. That he might lose him again, this time for good.

He has to pick his words very, very carefully.

"I'm sorry," he says, maintaining eye contact, "for visiting those other universes. I had no right to pry into your past like that, no matter how afraid I was; I should have accepted what you told me and left it at that." He takes a breath and looks down at his knees. "I... wanted to trust you, but... well."

"Paranoia," says Keith, tone still neutral.

"Yes, but that's no excuse."

"Mm." Keith knocks against his shoulder. "Okay. Relax, I forgive you."

Shiro's breath catches. "...Just like that?"

"I wasn’t mad in the first place, Shiro. But Pidge still is; you need to talk to her, too."

Oh. Yes, he does have to apologize to Pidge, but...

"I'm not sure words are gonna cut it," he says quietly. Next to him, Keith tenses—understandably.

"That's a dangerous line of thinking."

"I know. But how am I supposed to apologize when I don't understand why she's so upset?"

"...'Sorry' is a good start."

"Maybe. But I think this is something that needs doing, anyway." Honestly, it's something he's been thinking about since that evening, watching Keith in the healing pod with the unfamiliar weight of the black bayard in his hand.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well... you found Zarkon. Do you think you could find Matt and Commander Holt?"

* * *

The silence in the rec room practically throbs. Shiro fidgets; Pidge pointedly doesn't look at him. Allura sits stiffly between the two.

Shiro sucks in a breath like a drowning man coming up for air when Keith appears, sudden and silent as always.

"Well?" says Pidge. It sounds more like a demand than a question.

"I found Matt," says Keith. "He's with a bunch of galra resistance fighters. He's fine." He pauses.

"And Commander Holt?" Shiro prompts.

"...No. I couldn't find him." Keith runs a hand through his hair. "It _felt_ like he was out there, and I should've had a good enough grasp on his... essence, or whatever, since I did for Matt. But when I tried to go to him it just didn't work."

"What does that mean?" Allura asks.

"I don't know!" The hand Keith still has in his hair clenches into a fist. "I have no idea what it means or how this _works!_ I just _do_ it."

"Okay, it's okay," Shiro says quickly, standing and reaching out to soothe him. Pidge scoffs, but he focuses on Keith for now. "Maybe you can try again later. In the meantime, we can go meet Matt, right?"

"Yeah, I got coordinates." Keith looks to Allura, who nods.

"Let's go, then," she says, and they start off toward the bridge, leaving Shiro alone with Pidge.

"Pidge," he begins.

"Don't even start," she says. "You're not doing this for me, you're doing it for yourself, and we both know it."

Shiro takes a deep breath. "I'm doing it for both of us," he says. As much to assuage his own guilt over their capture as to sneak back into her good graces, though neither seems a likely outcome at this point.

"Do you know how hard I've worked to find my family, Shiro?" she asks, standing and looking up at him, intimidating despite her height. "All that information I've gathered, the algorithms I've coded, were all to find them. And you think you can just send your magic boyfriend out into the universe to rescue them for me?"

Shiro blinks, surprised. "That's not—"

"Yes, it _is_ what you're doing. Letting him solve all your problems for you. The intervention was his idea, you know; and when that didn't work, he came up with the solution, didn't he? And now this! What next? Are you gonna send him off to defeat Zarkon for you!?" She crosses her arms. "Oh, wait, he already _tried_."

Shiro can only gape.

"You need to solve your own fucking problems before you can worry about anyone else's, Shiro," she says darkly. "Like mine. I'm going to find my father by myself. Without you."

And she marches out the door, leaving him alone.

Shit.

She might be right. Has he been relying on Keith too much? It's only thanks to him that he has a bayard, that he can fall asleep at night.

Except... Shiro _tried_ to solve his problems on his own. The patrolling, at least. And that ended in a mental breakdown in the hallway that Hunk had to talk him down from in the middle of the night.

When he tried to satisfy his paranoia about Keith’s past, months ago, he took Pidge’s device and kicked off this whole fiasco.

Voltron is a family, Coran had said. A family that supports each other. None of them should be solving any problems this big alone; they're a team.

So no, Pidge isn't right—at least, not in this. She's right that sending Keith to find her family isn't the right way to make amends, though.

He resolves to talk to her—to _actually_ apologize, and offer his help, in whatever way he can. He should have long ago. He still doesn't know what nerve he touched but the least he can do is _ask._

Still, it's probably better he wait until she cools off a little. So he heads up to the bridge to join Keith and Allura.

"...Definitely Altean," Allura says as Shiro enters. "Where did you get this?"

"Dunno, I've just always had it," says Keith. Then he sees Shiro and tucks away whatever they were both looking at—his knife? He’ll ask later.

"Shiro," he says. "What did you say to Pidge?"

"...Not much," Shiro admits. "Mostly she yelled at me and stormed out. I was planning to find her later when she's calmed down." He notices Allura watching him, then, the worry on their faces. "Why?"

"She left," Allura says.

" _What?_ " Shiro hurries to join them, looking at the blinking spot on the map marking Pidge's pod. "She just _left?_ "

"She said you knew where she was going," says Keith. "It seemed weird but we thought we'd ask you—"

"Oh, god." Shiro hits the comm button. "Pidge. Pidge, get back here, now."

"No," she responds. "I've got a lead and I'm going to follow it."

"Pidge—"

"Pidge, you could have told us," Allura says. "We'd help."

"Fuck no. I'm not Shiro."

A wormhole opens up in front of her pod, darker and purpler than any Allura has made. Shiro's heart jumps into his throat.

"Pidge, don't—"

"Don't follow me," she says, and the pod sails on through the wormhole. The signal vanishes, and moments later the wormhole does too.

For a moment, all Shiro can do is stare blankly at the empty space where the wormhole had been. He did it again. He _did it again,_ he went and drove away one of his teammates thanks to his own fucking mistakes _again._

"We have to get her back," he says.

"If she has a lead—"

Shiro turns on Keith. "I will NOT lose her!" he shouts. "I lost Matt and Commander Holt already. I almost lost you. I will _not_ lose anyone else."

Keith lifts his hands. "I was gonna say we should help her! Not just let her go, Shiro."

Shiro takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"Sorry," he says. "Yes, we should help her. I just..."

He trails off, and no one fills the silence, for a moment.

"What did she mean?" Allura asks softly. "When she said she wasn't you?"

Shiro takes another deep breath. "She accused me," he says, "of making Keith solve all my problems for me."

"That's not true," Keith says immediately. "I told you this isn’t a replacement for actually _talking_ to her. And I keep saying I _want_ to help."

Shiro turns to him, heavily. "Have you said that to _her?_ "

Keith's mouth pinches closed.

"You should not have let it get this bad, Shiro," Allura says.

He sighs. "I know. But we don't have a lot of time. Can you track the pod?"

"I can." Allura turns to the console.

"I can go right to her," says Keith. "I don't know if I can convince her to come back or wait for us, though."

"Might be worth a shot." Shiro turns toward the door. "I'll find Lance and Hunk."

"Last I saw they were in the movie room," Keith offers, and disappears. Shiro pauses.

"I didn't know we had a movie room," he says.

"It's above the training deck," Allura says distantly. Shiro sets off.

He's barely off the bridge, though, when Keith reappears in front of him, chest heaving.

"I can't get to her!" he pants. "It's just like with her dad, she's _there_ but I can't reach her—like something's in the way."

Shit. "Go tell Allura," Shiro says quickly, and hurries on to find Lance and Hunk.

So this is the earthquake he’s been waiting for. He doesn't know what's happened to Pidge, or why Keith can't reach her or her father, but that wormhole had the look of druid magic and he's not going to take any chances.

Not this time.

* * *

* * *

Shiro wakes up completely, and that's a surprise in and of itself.

He takes stock. The light is harsh and purple, falling on cold metal—wherever he is, it's galran. He moves his limbs one at a time, arm and legs all responding with a deep ache, but functional. His galra arm lags, but it moves, too, when he tries it. He rasps with every breath but he _is_ still breathing, and that's something. Okay. He turns his head—there are others in this room, a prison cell most likely, shapes in the darkness. Quiet. Must be on a sleep rotation.

Rhythmic footsteps go past, sounding sharp against his ear, the familiar sound of a patrol. He shivers.

Then he remembers _Pidge is here too_ and jolts upward.

The pain hits immediately, sharp and burning, and he dizzily presses his hands against his midriff and hisses. The upper part of his armor is actually cracked, and his suit is stiff with dried blood, and he's a goddamn fucking _failure._

All he had to do was protect his team, and he failed, he failed, he _failed._

Hands pull him back down, pillow his head against something hard that definitely isn't the floor. The pain throbs endlessly.

"Don't move," says Pidge. "You're just gonna make it worse."

What little breath he has leaves him all at once. "Pidge," he wheezes.

"Yup," she says, quiet. "And I mean it, you're half dead already. Do _not_ move."

He reaches up with his real hand, trying to find her—she's not quite in view and his head seems to be resting on her shins. He finds her arm, grips it tightly.

"Katie," he says tightly, because this is important. "I'm sorry."

"No," she says sharply. "Don't say that. This is my fault."

"I mean it," he rasps, squeezing her arm. "I'm sorry, Katie."

"Stop that." There's a waver in her voice. "Stop talking like you're gonna... I activated your arm, you know? I h-had to open it up and I couldn't put it back together properly, I don't have any tools, but I activated it and used it to cauterize your own wound so you wouldn't bleed out. You lost so much blood. You don't get to talk like you're dying when I—I fucking _melted_ you back together, okay? You're not allowed to die, don't you dare. You're family."

He sucks in a breath. "Katie..."

"I'm so tired of losing people, Shiro. I'm tired of it." She shifts position. "Even when they come back, they're not the same."

Dimly, through a haze of pain, Shiro realizes _that's why._ All this time her reasons have been the same as his own.

He lets go of her arm and drops his own back down to his side. "Sorry," he says again. "Me too. Didn’t wanna… lose you too. I'm not... going anywhere. Promise." He's not sure it's a promise he can keep, but damn if he won't try.

She brushes his bangs out of his eyes. "Good," she says, almost sulkily. Then, "I’m sorry. For running away. I was so mad I wasn’t thinking… I should have realized it was a trap.” She leans into view. “Did you find Dad?"

Shiro closes his eyes. They had—Lance specifically had been the one to find him, among a group of prisoners. Getting him out had been too easy; it was finding Pidge that was hard, and when Keith and Shiro went to look for her instead they’d found an ambush lying in wait. Commander Holt had been the bait for her; she’d been the bait for them.

Hunk and Lance escaped, as far as he knows, with the rescued prisoners. And Keith...

"Yes," he says. "Lance and Hunk... had him. They got away. Keith, I don’t know..." Keith said he loved him. He said he'd come back.

Pidge shifts. “The galra… the trap wasn’t even for all of us. It was for Keith. They were so mad when he got away.”

That’s so much a relief Shiro almost passes out again. “...Yeah?”

“He stole your bayard right out of Zarkon’s hands. He’s got a grudge.”

Shiro half-snorts, half-coughs at that.

"Do you think he’ll come and get us? Keith, I mean."

If only. Shiro suppresses a groan. "No. Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He tried to… get to you. Something blocked him. Can’t take anyone with, anyway.”

"Our dimension hopper might still work."

"Hope he thinks of that, then."

She's quiet for a moment. The sounds of breathing from the other prisoners are mostly drowned out by his wheezing.

"You're having trouble breathing," she notes.

He huffs something like a laugh. "Just a bit."

"We need to get you into a pod ASAP."

"Sure." He flaps a hand toward the cell door, their only source of light. "We walking, or you gonna c...carry me?"

" _Stop_ that." She flicks his forehead. "You have the _worst_ sense of humor, Shiro. I'm being serious." She pauses. "They've gotta have a plan by now, right? They're gonna come get us any minute, right?"

He reaches up to hold her arm again, though the motion makes him wince in pain. "Yeah," he says. "They will. How long's it been?"

"A few hours, I think. I mean, it's hard to tell like this, it _feels_ like ages but I know it can't have been—"

"Katie." Shiro lets gravity take his arm where it will, energy spent. "They're coming. It'll... it'll be okay."

She makes a disbelieving noise, but leans down and rests her forehead against his. He closes his eyes. Oddly, he feels calm, more at peace than he's been in a very long time. Maybe there's something about lingering on the edge of death that puts his fears in perspective—or maybe he's accepted there's nothing more he can do.

The worst is here already, he thinks. Bring it on, universe.

* * *

Shiro remembers, distantly, lying on the floor somewhere dark, slipping in and out of consciousness. He remembers light and noise, commotion, being moved—pain. He remembers a face above him, looking down, one that he recognizes and instinctively fears.

He remembers the arena, shouting galra, his _arm..._

He stumbles out of a healing pod and slowly some of the pieces fall together. He was rescued; he’s back on the castle-ship now. Hunk and Lance take his arms, steadying him, and Allura and Pidge and Coran are across the room, and Commander Holt is in the next pod over and the rest are full of other prisoners, and Keith is there in front of him, and next to him—

He freezes, and stares.

"Haggar," he says.

"Not quite," she says, and smiles. He twitches—but it's not the same smile, and not the same eyes, skin...

"Uh," says Keith. "Shiro, this is my mom. Like, my actual mother. She helped us rescue you guys."

Well.

Okay.

That's... something.

She does... sort of look like him. Older, obviously. Pale-skinned and dark-haired like he is. Same nose. Different eyes. Pointed ears and violet marks on her cheekbones.

She's Altean. She's definitely Altean, which means Keith... is, in some large part, also Altean.

She _really_ looks like Haggar, too, though. Not completely, but enough to be seriously unnerving.

"Hello," he says finally, belatedly, and everyone seems to let out a sigh of relief. Lance and Hunk let him go at last.

"Are we finally getting that explanation?" Lance asks. Keith rolls his eyes.

"Yes," says Keith's mother. "Why don't we all have a seat?"

* * *

In the rec room, dressed and fully lucid and seated—crammed, really—between Hunk and Pidge, with his still-broken galra arm in a sling, Shiro waits for the promised explanation.

"Our universes seem near parallel, with one major exception: the war never happened back home," Keith's mother tells them. "The universe is still mostly at peace—squabbles now and then, but nothing that can't be easily solved. Haggar, the original red paladin, was my great-grandmother."

"Then Voltron exists there, too," says Allura.

"Yes. I'm the current red paladin." She reaches over and ruffles Keith's hair, making him yelp and recoil. "I suppose it runs in the family."

"So, like," Lance says, "how did Keith happen?"

Keith shoots him a look, but his mother only smiles.

"I was scouting out Earth for a possible alliance. I thought it better he be raised human—I did not anticipate he would inherit my ability."

"You didn't... miss him?" Shiro asks.

The look she turns on him is far too knowing for his liking. "I did. But I knew he was safe, and I could visit at any time."

Shiro misses the next thing she says, because Keith visibly pales. He raises his eyebrows, catches Keith's eye, and Keith grimaces and looks away. Shiro distinctly remembers Keith saying he never went back to the places he'd been; he wonders if what she said, too, is a trait that runs in the family.

Then Keith turns red and looks at the floor, and Shiro realizes Keith's mother is looking at him expectantly. Shoot, he should've been paying attention.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said," she says, "that Keith was in quite the state when he found me. You must be very close."

Pidge snorts. Lance sniggers. Shiro can feel himself turning red, too. _Close,_ yeah, that's a way to put it.

Keith said he loved him. Shiro glances over and finds Keith watching him.

"...Yeah," he says, and looks away again before he combusts, but he can't stop himself from smiling just a little.

"I... kinda figured out that I was part Altean," Keith says in a rush, the way he does when he desperately wants to change the subject. "My knife is, anyway, so I didn’t know how else I could’ve gotten it. And we didn't have enough paladins to form Voltron—we switched around again, Lance back in Red and Allura back in Blue, and Black let me in—but we still didn’t have _enough._ So I found Mom, and luckily Green accepted her, just for this, because I didn't know what else to do."

"The dimension hopper?" suggests Pidge.

Keith blinks at her. Then he throws back his head and groans. Pidge and Lance laugh, and Shiro can't resist a chuckle, too. Hunk grins.

"In fairness, I didn't think of it either," he says. "I don't think any of us wanna touch the thing anymore."

Shiro tenses, but Pidge just leans forward casually to look around him at Hunk. "You might not've been able to get everyone else out too, anyway. We never tried it on more than one person at once." Then she straightens up, slapping her palms against her knees. "Hunk, I just had the _best_ idea."

"Uh oh," he says, good naturedly. Pidge hops up out of the sofa ring, and Hunk gets to his feet and follows.

"Don't blow up the ship!" Shiro calls.

"I'm seconding that!" Coran says, hurrying after them. Allura looks briefly upwards, as much a plea as an eyeroll.

"I gotta see this," Lance says after a moment, standing too. "After you, Princess?"

Allura looks around the room for a moment. Then she looks to Shiro; he nods.

"Yes, I suppose we ought to supervise," she says, and they trail after the others, leaving only Shiro, Keith, and Keith's mother in the room. Keith sighs and flops down completely prone across one of the curved sofas, and his mother stretches out a little more.

"So," she says, with a smirk that Keith _definitely_ inherited, "how long have you been together?"

Keith groans into the sofa. Shiro has a feeling it's going to be a long day.

* * *

It's getting late into the evening by the time Shiro can hunt down Pidge. He finds her, unsurprisingly, in the infirmary, sitting in front of her father's pod. She looks up when he walks in.

“If you come sit I can fix your arm,” she says.

“You have tools on you?” he asks as he obliges.

“I brought them with me. Figured you’d show up here eventually.” She impatiently tugs at his arm; he lifts it out of the sling and she gets to work.

"We should talk," he says after a moment. She rolls her eyes.

"And all it took was a near-death experience."

"Sorry."

"You apologize too much. We both fucked up this time, Shiro." She sits back a moment to frown at his arm, then returns to her work. Shiro watches.

"It turns out,” he says slowly, quietly, “we were both afraid of the same thing."

She glances up at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. Losing someone."

She nods slowly. "So why did you do it? Use the dimension hopper?"

He takes a deep breath. "I knew Keith was hiding something from me. I didn't know if it would endanger one of you, or him, or me, so I wanted to find out. I... didn't expect what I found, and I definitely didn't want to scare him away or drive him to go after Zarkon. Believe me, that's the last thing I wanted."

"Hm." She pauses a moment, fiddling with something in his arm. "Well, we all do dumb things when we're angry, right?"

She says it like a joke but Shiro knows it's not. He hums his agreement.

"I did so much to find them, Shiro. I wasn't thinking that... that I was leaving you, too. I was thinking that it's been more than a year now and I hated how _pointless_ it felt when Keith just... went and found Matt. Just like that." She flips the final panel closed, gives his arm a pat, and looks up at her father in the pod. "A message was left for me, a few missions ago. That galra outpost that seemed too easy to take? It had a comm address, told me if I responded a wormhole would take me right to Dad. It sounded like a trap so I didn't respond right away, but... if there was any chance he was there..."

"And he was." Shiro looks up at him, too. "But it was a trap too."

"Yeah."

"...Are you okay?"

She gives him a half smile. "Shaken, but not stirred. I should be worried about you."

Admittedly, it's probably a good thing he's hardly had a chance to think since he got out of the pod. The nightmares will be bad tonight.

That's okay, though. After all, the worst has happened—and they made it through. The universe didn't end for his mistakes. Nightmares are just nightmares, not reality. And he has Keith and the rest of the team to help him through.

"It's nothing I can't handle," he says.

"I knew you were gonna say that."

"Hey." He wraps his newly-repaired arm around her shoulders. "We're a team, right?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

He nods up to the pod. "And what did your dad always used to say about a good team?"

Slowly, she grins. "They're like family."

"That's right." He squeezes her shoulders, and she hugs him back. "So, thank you, Katie, and if you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Likewise," she says into his shoulder, before she pulls away. She's quiet while he gets up with a groan, but when he's halfway to the door she speaks again.

"Tell Keith I said thanks. For trying to help." She pauses. "Actually, nevermind."

He turns and raises an eyebrow, and she smiles.

"I can tell him myself."

* * *

There's no night or day in space, but Shiro feels safe in thinking that it's been a hell of a day. He suspects Keith would agree; by the time he makes his way to Shiro's room that night, he looks exhausted. He slumps over Shiro's chest fully clothed and only groans when Shiro reminds him to take his boots and belt off, at least.

"My mom decided to stay the night," he grumbles, when he finally rolls up off the bed to undress. "Even though she can just _go_ and come back in the morning."

"If you found her still in the universe where you were born, then maybe she doesn't travel often," Shiro reasons.

"She doesn’t. She's busy being a paladin." Keith returns to the bed, tucking himself against Shiro's side. "It's funny, I guess. Because so am I."

"Mm." Shiro closes his eyes.

"I think I take after my dad, though."

"Mm."

"You're half asleep."

"Mm-hm."

Keith sighs and nestles his head on Shiro's shoulder. He's silent for a while, so Shiro cracks open an eye to peer down at him; his eyes are still open, staring at the wall.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. It's weird, but not really surprising."

"You sure?"

"The alien thing doesn’t bother me after everything I’ve seen, and I didn't know her well enough to care that she abandoned me." Keith turns his face into Shiro's shoulder. "If she'd stayed I'd still be living in a universe without you in it. I like this better."

Shiro smiles down at Keith, not that he can see it, and wraps his arms around him. "Me too," he says, and settles back down.

"She wants me to go back with her," Keith adds, though, after a moment.

Shiro's eyes snap open, and he lifts his head. "What?"

"Not permanently," Keith clarifies, turning his head so his voice is no longer muffled. "But if we compare notes maybe we can figure out why I couldn't teleport in or out of that base. I'm not gonna leave without knowing you guys will be okay without me, though."

"How long would you be gone?"

"Dunno." Keith shrugs; Shiro feels it more than sees it. "I don't _want_ to stay away too long. Not more than a week at a time."

Shiro lets out a breath and drops his head back onto his pillow. He can definitely survive a week without Keith.

"And I'm not even gonna go unless we can figure out how to make Voltron happen without me," he adds sleepily. "Allura could do it but you need the castle. Maybe Matt can be a paladin. I bet he could."

"I dunno if he's the red type."

"Lance can do it."

"Matt _might_ be blue. Or green."

"Yeah. I bet Pidge could do red."

"D'you think I could do anything but black?"

"Probably." Keith yawns. "Coran says it's not uncommon to switch around when you have to."

"Mm. Guess I don't have to, though."

"Yeah."

They lapse into silence. Shiro, tired as he is, waits until he feels Keith's breathing deepen into sleep, slowly running a hand up and down his back. Then he cranes his neck to kiss the crown of Keith's head. Keith doesn't stir; his whole life may have just been turned upside down but still he sleeps soundly. Someday, maybe, Shiro can be that much at peace with himself.

 _I love you,_ Keith had said, but thinking back, he’d said it without words so many times already.

"I love you, too," Shiro whispers into Keith's hair, and settles down to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

>  _thats all folks........._ except not actually bc idk about you but im feeling like this story isnt over yet. ;) if the reception to this fic is especially good i may write part 3 for the supernova bang; otherwise ill still write it, itll probably just be a little shorter lol. that said, if you have any questions about this au, or anything you wanted to see, TELL ME!! a lot of stuff made it into this fic _purely_ because someone asked. :D
> 
> you can find the art for this fic in its own post [here!](http://overcaustically.tumblr.com/post/164718388802/my-art-for-maternalcubes-sheith-big-bang-fic) and you can find yours truly [here](http://maternalcube.tumblr.com/) <3


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